


Men Will Be Men

by shretl (girlundone)



Series: A Girl Needs A Gun These Days [4]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Arm Wrestling, Gambling, Gen, Mass Effect 3, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 21:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18535510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlundone/pseuds/shretl
Summary: Garrus isn't impressed by Jimmy's boasting. Jimmy issues a challenge.Set during Mass Effect 3.Tumblr prompt by officious-seeing-eye-bitch: James Vega could most definitely beat Garrus in arm wrestling. I’m not sorry.





	Men Will Be Men

**Author's Note:**

> A zissen Pesach!

The smell of unwashed bodies and despair was overpowering in the docks, but as Garrus strode through the prefabs, he sensed something else too. Respite in the form of raucous laughter and good-natured, derisive hooting.

Vega sat at a card table between two ramshackle outposts, gloating winners and a bevy of admiring onlookers. His shirt was among the takings, abandoned without shame on the dirty pile of credit chits pooled on a stained and sticky table.

Though Vega was the size of a healthy krogan adolescent, Garrus still towered over him, especially seated. “Lost your shirt there, Jimmy.” His mocking subvocals drew the words out in a drawling cadence.

Vega shrugged good-naturedly, muscles rippling the ink etched into his bronze skin. “Eh, it’s all for a good cause.”

Garrus tilted his head, nearly brushing a nearby human in the tightly packed space with the sweep of his fringe. He sidestepped her and moved closer to James. “How’s that?”

Vega, on the other hand, let his arms fly out in a grandiose gesture, sure to flash a white grin at a fawning bystander in threadbare coveralls.  “They’re refugees, Scars. If I can give ‘em a few creds and a gun show, I figure it’s the least I can do.”

Garrus scoffed loudly. “Gun show,” he repeated with a scornful look at Vega’s bulging muscles.

“Hell yeah, man,” James agreed with no hint of irony.  “Lookit these.” He flexed his tan biceps proudly, kissing each as though they were good little children. Someone gave an exaggerated sigh but Garrus scoffed again. Vega nodded his head in Vakarian’s direction, as though he could see the ropy arms of his friend beneath his signature blue armour. “Definitely a show compared to what you’re packin’.”

“ _Definitely?”_ Garrus repeated with an incredulous, aggrieved air, as though he could tease Jimmy but Jimmy couldn’t tease him.

Vega tucked his arms behind his head and leaned back in his spindly chair with a smug, self-satisfied smile. “Hey man. Just sayin’.”

Garrus hurried a batarian out of his seat at the card table and sat down, leaning forward toward James’ arrogant visage. “How’d you like to lose a few more credits?”

Jimmy untucked his arms, placed his elbows on the table, and grinned into Garrus’ visor-lit face. “Oh man, you’re goin’ _down.”_

For a few moments, silence fell among the onlookers as Garrus and James clasped hands and struggled against each other’s arms. But then a champion became clear and credits were thrown down with the cries of victory and defeat.

Vega’s eyes shone with glee as he leaned back in his rickety chair like a crowned king. “Look, I ain’t sayin’ I told ya so…”

Garrus glowered at his gloating friend, his head sunk in his cowl in a vanquished slump.  “Shut up.”

“Don’t worry!” Vega assured Garrus with a cheerful thump on his armoured shoulder.   “Like I said, it’s for a good cause.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward once more. With a quick look around at the thrilled winners, sore losers, and lovestruck spectators, he confessed, “I really did lose my shirt. Think Shepard’ll let me use her discount?”


End file.
